these are all warnings you will likely forget
by Our Brightest Stars
Summary: Severus's dark eyes stared bleakly, voice pitiably miserable, "And wouldn't you take this cheap transcendence over the alternative? Would you stay and fight still, despite knowing the risks?" There's a mirthless laugh. "Of course you would." ...Her heart beats in her chest like a drum marching her to war—but maybe she's preparing for one. [SI-as-trans!Snape. AU. Adopted from Enbi.]
1. Bare Beginnings

When Severus Snape reached the age of two, she single-handedly ruined everything in one fell swoop.

Little black eyes – _so dark they seemed to stain rather than burn whatever they gazed at_ – widened in fear and alarm. Tiny, fragile hands covered delicate ears, clamping tightly to block out the whole wide world that crashed into pieces around her. Short and stark black hair blew violently, wispy strands of baby hair tumbled and whipped against her swallow and pasty white face. She fell into a crouch, trying to bury her thin face into bony knees, into an illusion of safety.

Accidental magic generated a strong gust of wind from nowhere, making glass bottles of booze burst against walls and stained them with smelly brown whiskey. Objects trembled and rattled ominously on shelves. Tobias Snape bellowed in furious terror, like an enraged bull confronted with the sight of the overwhelming unknown. Eileen Snape, once a Prince but one no longer after having abdicated her right as heiress in disgrace, was frozen between joy and frustration. All her efforts of the past four and a half years were now fruitless as her sole child proved to be as magical as her.

Severus Snape was two years old, a witch, and a wrecking ball smashing the tentative equilibrium of the Snape household into smithereens.

* * *

 _(and even though Severus is only two, she knows what she wants, knows who's right and who's wrong; she has her own opinions, ideas, and principles. And though it may have sounded odd coming from a toddler, Severus felt that she was more a person than a child, felt that she was completely independent of others)_

* * *

Severus Snape hadn't always been Severus Snape.

Once, she had been a woman of considerable strength (at least outwardly, for she was always weak on the inside), independent and aloof. Lonely. A woman who had sunk into the cold and unforgiving depths of Lake Superior on Michigan coasts, a coward running from her failures and mistakes.

Now, she was the son of a drunkard and an ex-witch, with a weak body and a weak mind. Her insides were poisoned with negativity and riddle with self-doubt and reproach. An adult in a child's body. Misplaced. Shame and guilt are her daily mantra, making her heart beat heavily in her chest like a broken-down bass drum, tired and worn.

She's now four years old, and looked every bit of her twenty-six years. The house, when once upon a time had been stilted but lively, was now tense and stifling, dangerous. Before her father would take his frustrations out by complaining and ranting and rough sex by the end of the night with her mother.

(she could remember hearing creaking springs and the occasional bang of something hard against the wall, screaming moans and breathless grunts, and little wails that trailed off at the end followed by soft murmurs and cries. The Severus from Before thought the house had been haunted and cowered in his tiny crib in the closet, clutching his ragged pillow close like a stuffed animal...

Now, she merely counts the time away until the more violent and pain-filled sounds end.

Some nights there's no sound at all, but the stuttering snores and muffled crying and her apprehensive breathing;

 _she never sleeps those nights_ )

Now... Now that he knows the truth of what she and her mother are, they are the ones he takes his frustrations out on. There's always this sense of fear behind his eyes, terror of the unknown, and that's why she always stares into the murky dark recesses of his gaze, into the blotchy and shadowed gaze where the fear hides, and pities him. Tobias is always the first to look away before he hurts her once again under the veneer of 'discipline', usually with the brush used to clean the radiators (even though it's not like she can control her magic when it decides to act up, not when she's upset and especially not when she's being yelled at). Before he banishes her to the corner to stand facing the yellowed-with-age-and-chipping white walls for hours until he forgets she exists.

* * *

 _(It's hard to hate what you are. Hard, but not impossible. Do it often enough, long enough, and it becomes easy to lose yourself in hazy resentment and clouded bitterness._

 _She hates him as much as she hated herself, for they are one and the same: afraid.)_

* * *

Severus is six years old, and she should be in school. She knows this from foggy memories of a life in a time long ago (or a time that had yet to pass in the late future, depending on your perspective), but maybe things are different in the sixties, she doesn't know.

(once upon a time, she would have loved to live in the sixties, had adored the music and fashion, but now that she's here, she isn't able to relish it as she would have, had circumstances been different, and that realization sits heavy in her stomach like cold stones. She knows there will be many more things that she will miss out on beyond childhood and normal schooling, many more important things likely, but that doesn't make the bitter pills of resentment any easier to swallow)

She's only six years old, when she walks up to her mother and asks in a subdued tone, "Mum, what makes you stay here with him and me? You could leave if you wanted to; you could disappear." Her voice barely dares to whisper, checking in an almost paranoid manner over her shoulder like he might be there with a snarl and a heavy hand, listening, "You could use _magic_ and never be found again where he can touch you, like a ghost."

Severus doesn't know what made her suggest this, as if she didn't know her mother likely considered it every night for the past three and a half years. She doesn't know why she offered the idea, as if she were giving the other woman her permission to make her escape. She doesn't know how it sounded more like a plea than a suggestion, as if she wasn't asking her mother to stay like most children, but asking instead if her mother would abscond the both of them away from the angry man that hurts them.

She didn't know that when she asked that very question that her mother had something stir inside of her heart, as if waiting six very long years for the question to be asked, so that she could remember that there were other options...

* * *

 _(Eileen steals away to Diagon Alley one afternoon, anxiously glancing around as she rents at the Owl Post to have a letter to be delivered._ It was for the best _, she reassured herself,_ Mum will understand _. Afterwards, going to Gringotts, she reactivated an old account that had been put on hold almost eight years ago and withdrew some money to make several important purchases. As soon as she got a response, she would come back to update some paperwork, but for now she had done what she could for herself and her child)_

* * *

It is just past ten thirty-eight in the morning, Tobias is long gone to work at the textile factory and her mother had left once more to disappear for a few hours to "take care of business" as she does every Thursday. It's always mesmerizing to see the lightning green flames that spoke of _magic_ , and having her mother be able to stick her head in the fire without fear of burning, entering and exiting as she pleased (as long as Tobias wasn't present). That had been nine minutes ago, and now it was just Severus in the household for anywhere between twenty minutes to three hours and fifty-six minutes. Or perhaps shorter or longer than that, one could never be sure other than that her mother was **always** home before her husband.

Severus had until five to study anything magical related before they had to be given back to her mother so they could be hidden into the charmed trunk; which, despite its size, Tobias never seemed to find it. Severus didn't feel the need to question this, already knowing the only answer: the very same thing that had been prevalent in this life for over five years now since she was two.

The throughout last year though, things seemed to be changing for the better in some ways, ever since she had dredged up the courage to ask her mother why she stayed. There was no more stagnation and wallowing, Severus was simply too busy in the day and too exhausted at night. Her mother, while not one to dote or be affectionate, seemed to dethaw the more time went on, a sense of camaraderie between mother and child trapped in non-ideal circumstances. They were in the same boat, and so relied on each other in their own way. Severus provided Eileen a solid reminder of what she had now committed to; and Eileen provided Severus security that things would change and that, eventually, the two of them would leave Spinner's End and Tobias behind them.

While the "man of the house" hadn't changed any, while their treatment only seemed to gradually worsen, it was bearable. Severus could endured getting the belt when her magic accidentally announced its existence when her father was home, could ignore Tobias's intimidation tactics and hateful words, could grow accustomed to the distinct burning stench of alcohol and cigarettes in the air, and tolerate the occasion sliver of broken glass piercing her feet in the living room if she wasn't careful. She could withstand it all, because she knew it was only temporary. Only until she got her Hogwarts letter and could leave this place behind as an official member of wizarding society, she was _sure_ of it.

So, Severus kept herself busy in the meantime. And while she hadn't been learning spells as she didn't have her own wand yet and her mother's wand "wasn't to be touched", she learned about magical creatures, plants, and their properties. Later, if there was time before five, her mother would quiz her on what she retained, and then add more information about the particular ingredient in question. Severus rather liked this book she used, the one by Zygmunt Budge. It read less like a textbook or an encyclopedia, and more like a bibliography detailing Master Budge's adventures and exploits in finding said ingredients and how certain aspects of them would interact with each other — often through trial and error as accounted in the book. He often would give a comprehensive record of its known history, origins, and miscellaneous facts concerning it, followed with a true-to-life sketch. Each entry would take up two, sometimes three, pages. Considering how massive the book was (with a whopping nineteen-inch long spine, twelve-inch width, and 969 pages with very small font), Severus only read one or two entries a day to every other day, carefully scrawling or underlining notes in the margins, reviewing what she learned.

When she was finished with her studying, or even just taking a break, Severus would read history texts about the magical world, Hogwarts, and Wizarding society. She also perused some level one Charms books out of curiosity, despite not being able to practice. There's just so much she wants to know, and so little time to do it. No matter how much her mother assures Severus that she won't be left behind, the fear of failure and dismissal can't be shaken. Fear of her housemates, of her professors, of other witches and wizards finding her lacking is too strong to shake. No matter how hard she tries to fool herself or act differently, the fear remains; so Severus aims to make herself indispensable, the very best like no witch before her ever was.

At least, in one field. While others can be content in being knowledgeable in all fields but the master of none, Severus will master something and make herself irreplaceable. She can't be gotten rid of or forgotten because _they need her_. No one can make her feel powerless or defenseless again. _She_ will have the upperhand. _She_ will be the one they beg mercy and scraps of acknowledgment from. _She_ will be the one feared and respected and envied for her security and invulnerability.

* * *

 _(Severus is only seven years old, and she already knows that in a magical pureblood-driven society that knowledge is power... and she plans to have a monopoly)_

* * *

Severus is eight.

The small candles flicker in the dark, casting shadows over Severus's face as she gazes up at her mother in surprise. Her mother didn't bake, period. Yet, there was a simple loaf of poppy seed bread being offered; no glaze or frosting, of course. Her mother gives no answer, no words, just stares back in a rare soft focus, eyes gentle but seeming to lift information directly from her daughter's head just as they always had since two years prior. Studying Severus with a quiet fascination and curiosity as she imparts all she knows about the magical world to her child.

Wax drips onto her fingers and Severus breaks eye contact, blowing out the candles with a startled exhale. The two of them breathe in the darkness, house practically empty except for the two of them.

"You are old enough now to try," came the quiet murmur. "You may not have a wand, but you don't truly need it to know how to create the potions themselves. It is an art form, an exacting craft that requires your full attention, patience, and wit. Follow the directions to the letter, know the ingredients and how to prepare them absolutely, with thorough and complete regard to every detail. One such potioneer who does so can brew glory in all its splendor, bottle the luck of gods, and even stopper death into a tiny potent vial — **it's true magic, no matter what anyone says.** Learn it, and learn it well, because it's something no one can take from you once you master it; half-blood or not, muggleborn or not. Potionmaking can only be mastered by those who respect and devote themselves to it... If you do this much, Severus, _no one can touch you_."

There's another drop of wax on her finger, but it does little to distract her, still listening intently. Floorboards creak and shift, with a wave of a wand the stove is lit and a small tarnished metal cauldron trundles itself noisily out of the cupboard where the pots and pans were contained. But neither of them are scared Tobias will hear them and come to find out the source of the noise, not when two hours prior Eileen had slipped a dose of sleeping draught in his bottle of cheap whiskey. He wouldn't be waking up for quite a while, more than enough time to erase the evidence.

Bringing into view a ratty book with the spine worn out and the green leather splitting, the very same that had been bought for a discount price sometime prior, her mother set it on the counter and opened it to one of the first pages past the introduction, tapping at the recipe for a cure of boils. "We'll work on this one first," the older witch murmured. "Tonight, I will walk you through the step-by-step process and ask you questions about the ingredients and how they interact with each other. It's time we tested your knowledge on all you have been studying since we started."

* * *

 _(neither of them knew at the time, but this was the beginning of the end, that everything Severus learned here would be altering everything once more like back when she was two... whether the change would be good or not was left to be seen)_

* * *

When she can, Severus slips outside to run barefoot through Spinner's End, avoiding broken glass and stinking puddles of questionable origin. She skirts down narrow wynds (which were basically lanes between houses, similar to an alley but more like a very narrow street) heading towards the textile mill that continuous puffs out hot steam from its chimney and the Cokeworth river that ran nearby, as dingy and murky as ever. Past that on the other side of a grimy brick bridge was Miltown Row where there were more (albeit, nicer) brick residences. If one were to follow the river's edge on that side, they would come across a dismal little park that contained only two swings, a rickety metal slide, and tilted merry-go-round that give the impression it was about to fall over. After that, there only lay a threadbare clearing that made way for some railroad tracks where scraggly woods marked the outer boundary of Cokeworth proper.

Despite the swollen and bloated appearance of the river itself, Severus liked to creep along the bank's tall grass and catch small creatures like frogs and minnows and the occasional white clawed crayfish, her slacks rolled up to the knees and her mother's old button-up blouse rolled up to the elbows. Leaving the top two buttons undone and tying the bottom of the shirt to fit her more snuggly around her midriff made her feel less like she was swimming in the fabric, adding a more personal and feminine touch. And while she couldn't help her hair beside's tying it back with a fraying strap of leather — _considering the effect of leaning over the cauldron for sometimes hours at a time_ — or perpetually borderline-starved look; this helped her look less mismatched, less neglected with her appearance.

Still, she made sure to generally keep to herself, if not outright avoiding the few children sporadically dotted around Spinner's End, Miltown Row, and other nearby terraces; wary and scornful of them as they seemed so alien to her now. Foreign. Severus isn't the type to look for trouble if she can help it, instead she skirted around the edges, all but a ghost. Cold and shallow as a winter creek and generally uninterested in the ongoings of mere muggles. There was no point to befriend them, as they were of no use to her.

This particular day, the sun is out and peeking shyly through the clouds. It warms the cold and dingy town, and people find excuses to be outside, basking in the warmth. However, it is a Tuesday afternoon, and most children are still in school if it can be afforded and most adults are at work, so Cokeworth is rather deserted at the moment. Severus takes the opportunity to visit the park and idly perched on swing set, relishing the good weather. It might have even been in the twenties (or seventies, if one were to use Fahrenheit). In the distance a crow caws and Severus kicks out her feet to swing back and forth, lost in a daydream about luminous fields of pink puffapods filled with golden shiny beans and their potential uses as a magical variant of leavening baking soda or a thickening corn starch.

She hears them before she spots them, a brunette and a redheaded pair of girls walking towards the park. She watches them out of the corner of her eye but otherwise continues as she was on the swing. The little red-haired girl continues to walk towards the park unhaltingly, expression open and cheerful, arms swaying by her sides in time with her steps. The other seemed to falter at the sight of Severus's stark-looking figure being unexpectedly present, her face screwing up in annoyance and her lips pursing. Severus knew a brewing confrontation when she spotted one and it honestly wasn't worth the headache to argue, even one-sidedly, with the local muggles over something so mundane as a swing.

With little warning or hesitation, Severus let go of the chains and went flying off her seat in a smooth arc, her descent quick and sure as her feet dug heavy imprints into the sand from her solid landing. With a wriggle of her toes and a leisurely stretch, the little witch went to go investigate the merry-go-round and see just how tilted it really was, ignoring the highly curious green eyes aimed at her back. Instead, as she pokes around the thick wood disk and absently runs her hands along metal railings, Severus broods about what she had eavesdropped the other night when she should have been sound asleep:

 _"So, it's done now?" Eileen asked hurriedly, leaning closer to the fireplace that spewed green fire and housed a head made of green flame. "It must be if you are risking a floo-call at this time of night when he's home..."_

 _"For the most part," the face confirmed slowly, lips pursing. "But you realize how hard it is to push this paperwork through now after all these years? You were the last of the Prince line and disappeared so abruptly... Many presume you dead, whether through foulplay or otherwise doesn't much matter, and will want you to remain that way through any means. I have gotten the boy's through easily enough as his face is already on the tapestry and has yet to be registered with the Ministry. As long as we managed to 'claim' him before his eleventh birthday, no one will be any the wiser. You, on the other hand..."_

 _"... I never did thank you for keeping it quiet."_

 _The face grimaced, "You shouldn't be thanking me for trying to keep our dirty laundry to ourselves, Leenie. Especially not when we are..._ were _... ashamed of your actions."_

 _"I know, I know," Eileen placated quietly. "I made a mistake, trying to use a lo—"_

 _"It wasn't the potion itself!" The face interrupted beseechingly, "It was_ who _you were attempting to use it on! And then to cover it up by disappearing completely and slumming it with the muggles? Leenie —"_

 _"I know, all right!" The younger witch spat defensively before sighing. "I know. I made my mistakes, but Severus doesn't need to suffer the consequences from them, not with all the unsavory things happening right now with the muggleborns and half-bloods. As long as he's better than what they would ever expect from 'his kind', they won't suspect otherwise."_

 _"Yes," the image of the older witch agreed wistfully. "Yes, there is that, as long as he is as talented as you say he is, no one will question it."_

It was hard to ignore how much sense it all made with her mother being so secretive of where she disappeared to on Thursdays for varying amounts of time. And why her mother was even married to Tobias in the first place: she was a magical criminal on the run and now that Severus was proven to be magical too and due to receive a Hogwarts letter in the next two years, Eileen's cover would be blown if they weren't careful... Or maybe she was a part of something similar to the witness protection program because of some scandal involving magical royalty? Likely the latter, actually, if the witch in the fireplace was truthful about there being paperwork, implying a government position of some kind, a prince, and having to 'disappear'. It sounded like it would be easy for Severus to do so, as she had no paperwork filed for herself yet, but her mother on the other hand..?

Maybe Eileen was going to have to get a whole new identity created. Would that mean Severus would too, or would they have to go their own separate ways to —

An alarm shriek of, "Lily, no!", shattered her attention and Severus whipped around to see the little red-haired girl let go of the swing at the very height of its arc and flew into the air, quite literally flew, launching herself skyward. Severus could only watch in horror as the little red-haired girl hurtled past the edges of the sandpit and towards the hard ground, the brunette screaming and crying out in the background, and the young witch thought for sure that the other would crumpled on the playground asphalt, seriously injured or even killed. She could only watch in mute fear, body going numb and cold sweat sliding down her neck, hands clenching and unclenching uselessly as she waited for the inevitable descent...

But it didn't happen. The little red-haired girl seemed to only go higher and higher, as if she was actually flying! Glided above Severus's head through the air, staying far longer than what should be possible, and gently landed on top the slide far too lightly, which she went down with a great shout of laughter, face filled with pure elation. Severus could only stare, shocked as the little red-haired girl — Lily — looked back at her with a great big smile on her face, clearly proud.

"What did you do, Lily?! Mummy told you not to!" The brunette stopped her swing by dragging the heels of her sandals on the sand, her feet sinking in and pushing a small pile of dirt in front of her toes, then leapt up, hands on her hips. The older girl's eyes glanced over to Severus, face clearly scared and nervous. "Mummy said you weren't allowed, and that you shouldn't show others!"

"But I'm fine," Lily protested, still giggling slightly before turning big innocent green eyes towards Severus who was glancing between the two of them in mute shock. "And, Tuney, I'm sure he doesn't mind... Do you?"

Numbly, Severus shook her head, voice hoarse, "N-No."

* * *

 _(because Severus didn't mind, now that she knew she wasn't the only young witch in Cokeworth; because once she thought about it, it was silly to assume that her and her mother were the only ones to use magic and that they might be the only magical family here, that she would be alone until she was eleven in two more years and got her letter and climbed aboard the Hogwarts Express in the fall like a muggle child climbs aboard a bus... as shocked as she was, Severus was amazed and pleased with her fellow witch, and was more determined to make friends with the little red-haired girl than figuring out what truth her mother was hiding)_

* * *

 **part one: fin**

* * *

 **A/N: So, this is a fanfic loosely based off of Enbi's one-shot TAAWYWLF that was featured in "Enbi's OG Fics" (/11880492/1/Enbi-s-OG-fics).**

 **She was gracious enough to let me adopt the concept and do what I will with it... And I plan to derail canon in its** **entirety.**

 **You'll probably notice that this Severus appears to be much _softer_ than what Enbi's was or maybe even Canon Snape... This will be subject to change in the next chapter or so where everything will pick up pace and then go sideways lol**

 **And yes, there's a reason why I'll be continuously be referring to Lily as "the little red-haired girl", it's a reference to Charles Schultz's character known as "the Little Red-Haired Girl". Lily fulfills much the same role, if you consider Severus a sort of Charlie Brown like figure.**

 **In any case, I got a vague outline and no idea how far I'll go with this lol**


	2. Rose-Tinted Weeds

The little red-haired girl, also known as Lily, was a muggleborn (as clearly the rest of her family was unfortunately muggles), making the other girl reacted badly when Severus attempted to seriously explain that she was a witch.

Which, fair enough, perhaps Severus could have phrased, "you're a witch!", not quite as bluntly as she had. She hadn't meant to sound accusing or anything, she was just so excited to not be the only witch besides her own mother living there. Especially since said other witch had such firm control over exactly what her magic could do, wand or not. Lily having been able to take a small and shriveled fallen blossom into hers hands and make it come back to life; reblooming and unblooming, opening and closing its petals, like a sea anemone (although, when her sister, a muggle, had went spare, Lily immediately threw it on the ground).

" _That's_ not a very nice thing to say to somebody!" The little red-haired girl snapped with great offense, eyes flashing as they narrowed into slits and an ugly look similar to her sister's sneer crossing her face. "How rude!" Her sister, meanwhile, looked absolutely petrified, as if her worst nightmare had been realized, despite her best attempts to appear disproving, nose in the air to hide the fear in her eyes that was clear as day.

"No, wait! I didn't mean it like that," Severus protested, throughly embarrassed. Her face grew red in a rare sense of mortification, sallow face uncomfortably hot as she shifted uneasily while the sisters considered her down their noses, united in disapproval. "You _are_ a witch," Severus reiterated before hurriedly reassuring the pair in an attempt to prevent them from both getting upset again, "but there's nothing wrong with that! Me and my mum are, too."

Brunette's laugh was like cold water, making a sense of trepidation and dismay grow in the pit of Severus's stomach from the cruel sound. It felt a bit a like shame, as if she just said something stupid. Severus's lips thinned and she diverted her eyes, feeling sheepish even though she didn't particularly do or say anything wrong. Tucking her hands under her armpits as soon as she folded her arms, lips thinning as she turned to the side, body stiff. "Witch, he says!" The girl shrieked, her sense of bravado returned now at the cowed look Severus presented, seeing an opportunity to turn the focus away from her sister and onto the child who threatened her sense of normalcy. " _I_ know who _you_ are; you're that Snape _boy_ from Spinner's End! Well, I guess you're as dimwitted as you are poor: witches are _girls_ , not _boys._ _And_ they don't even exist!"

"I _am_ a girl!" Severus bit out spitefully, dark brows furrowing deeply and her lips pursing together so hard they shook slightly. Her palms sweated and her face grew even hotter, nervous energy (or was it magic?) jittering through her bones, restless and unsure. She was uneasy with where the conversation was going, but was now mostly irritated at the older girl's presumptuous attitude and obvious attempt to put Severus down. "And excuse _you_ for you terrible manners, you big bully."

"Tuney isn't a _bully_!" The little red-haired girl shot back just as heatedly, quickly jumping to the defense of her sister and seeming to almost vibrate with her ire. Severus could almost taste the magic rolling off the other girl in invisible and intangible waves, ready to strike. " _She's_ not the one calling people _witches_ and _lying_ for no reason!"

"Oh, so calling people dimwitted is okay then? _Don't be so blind._ " Severus spat at the other little witch, distressed and angry, a bit of panic and a spike of fear of what the other witch might accidentally do in her anger. Severus didn't turn to face the muggle sister causing all the problems even though her next words were addressing the brunette, simply because it would be foolish to even glance away from those glaring green eyes for even a fraction of a second. Severus wouldn't dare turn her back on a very real threat. "And _yeah_ , I'm _poor_ , so what? Just 'cause your parents are better off than mine, _clearly_ doesn't mean they can afford to buy you any class, _Tuney._ "

Brunette recoiled, insecurity and hurt flashing across her face, lip trembling and eyelashes blink rapidly, perhaps to keep back tears. Briefly, Severus felt almost guilty for making fun of the other girl's unfortunate name (nickname?). That is, until the girl opened her mouth again, "Like you would know what that is, you... you greasy _nancy_!" Severus could only stare into space, wide eyes frozen in shock, before the muggle turned the red-haired girl and continued shrilly, "Lily, come on, we're leaving! I don't want you around that, that _freak_ anymore." Lily obeyed her sister at once, glaring at Snape as she left. An unspoken promise of retribution looming heavily in the air.

Severus remained where she stood, staring blankly into the space where the little red-haired girl used to be as the pair of sisters marched through the playground gate. She could only feel a sense of bitter disappointment that the only other witch her age had to be such a mindless follower of her bigoted sister and that, despite clearly being a girl, everyone would forever judge Severus to be a boy first.

* * *

 _(Severus frustratedly kicks at the ground and unintentionally punts the flower that Lily dropped. She glares at it with all the distaste she felt for the pair of sisters currently before huffing irately to herself and picking it up by the short stem. It was an orange ranunculus, and seemed as fresh as if it had been just plucked. After a long tense pause, Severus stored it in her pocket with carefulness that belied her genuine aggravation before stomping home moodily)_

* * *

Severus doesn't go back to the park, her wounded pride not allowing it.

Instead, she goes back to what she always did before, wandering around the river's filthy banks and exploring to see where it went, going under the bridge and under the train tracks, past the edge of the muggle neighborhood, and into the fen. There, the nine-year-old-who's-really-thirty-two spends hours of her time, usually towing along her favorite text, Book of Potions by Zygmunt Budge.

She was still short enough that, more often than not, the tall and untamed river reeds would go over her head, the tips waving in the wind and when Severus navigated through the vegetation, following the faint deer path that may or may not have actually been made by a deer. Following along it diligently lead to the river's edge, where a group of willows could be seen, the tall grass seeming to meld into the willows' long slender vines. If one was careful, they could cross the river through a shallow and narrow section further downstream using an abandoned beaver dam. Severus isn't bothered too awfully much by the cold water sloshing around her ankles, as her feet were often chilled anyway.

Back tracking on the other side of the water towards the willows revealed a secret thicket to call her own, once she put in the work to make it as such.

Severus only needed to clear it out of knee-high browning grass and create an entryway of sorts before deeming it acceptable. It's her own little grove that no one knows about, or would care to take the time finding. The soil is fertile and soft, and on a whim, Severus gradually transplants common wildflowers, forms, herbs, and small shrubs, curious to see what might survive and grow.

 _(she thinks about the red ranunculus in her room, it still hasn't wilted in its small cup of water by the rickety window, not even after days and weeks and a month have past, it might not even need water or sun at all, but Severus keeps up the pretense just the same, changing the water only when it gets disgusting)_

And when the mornings are cool with fog and mist and chilled dew, she brings a musty wool blanket, leaving it in a hollowed out knot in the tree. Severus doesn't fear the spiders or other tiny insects that might attempt to make a home in the material, nor is she worried about any critters that might occupy the knot as the scent of human would be enough to deter them... And if not, well, she hopes they don't bite.

It's when she lays on her back, thinking quietly to herself in absence of her textbooks, that a stillness that hadn't yet evolved into actual feeling steals over her. It wasn't unakin to happiness, but it was so much more muted and vague, something similar to a sense of serenity or possibly even contentment.

There was still a dull burning in her upper arm from where Tobias manhandled her the other day, her stomach still shifted and churred in a hollow pain similar to the ringing after a person hits their head on something, she still felt empty and strung out like a sopping wet rag that had been wrung one too many times, still felt stuck in the strange moment where everything hurt but was strangely clear at the same time. Despite this, though, the stillness and not-feeling grew, like a soft expansion in her sternum; a sprout making a fragile appearance amidst the weeds and briar thorns of her neurotic and poisonous insides.

Severus considers uprooting it, metaphorically speaking, but she cannot identify it and it isn't currently disturbing her in any way, so she leaves it alone and savors the gentle sensation of sunlight on her face as she stretches out on the soft ground.

* * *

 _(it's often then in that quiet moment of not-feeling, that she feels her own age, young and fresh and twenty-two; that she was finally just one age, not three; felt as if she was a solid embodiment of bone and sinew and flesh and heart and mind and — well, point was, she held the refined sentiment of a being an actual living human person again; like she was no long a whisper or a vague idea of a person, as if she had finally arrived to acknowledge her legacy leftover from death, an acceptance_ —

 _it's not for long, but the fleeting moment is hers, wavering and flickering like a tiny flame or sprout in a breeze; the not-feeling isn't important or necessary to her new life, but she tolerates it just the same)_

* * *

Severus whirled around suddenly and lashed out her hand blindly, it colliding into something solid... which shifted from feigned invisibility, the background blurring and sliding inexplicably in response. Like she had hit a giant chameleon and make it move, ruining its careful blending into the background of tall grass. The little red-haired girl stumbled back in startled surprise and tripped over a clod of mud, slipping to fall with a yelp as the illusion faded away completely. Severus could only stare, bewildered and at a loss for words.

Lately, she had been getting the feeling of being watched, followed even, but who would have thought it would be one of the sisters (Lily, she was sure) whom Severus had been certain were avoiding her... Apparently not, though.

Pursing her lips and frowning down reproachfully at the other girl, Severus asked somewhat dryly, "...Can I help you?"

The little red-haired girl gave a sheepish grimace, freckled cheeks flushing in embarrassment at being caught as she crossed her arms and hunched her shoulders. Seconds ticked by as she seemed to struggle internally for either an excuse or explanation. The woman-turned-child found that she didn't really care one way or another that she had been essentially stalked for who knew how long, and just wanted to know what the other girl wanted.

So she asked again, a bit more impatiently this time with her weight finally shifting over to one foot and her hip jutting out, "Look, can I help you with something or were you just bored and curious? I have been staying away from the park, so I couldn't possibly be bothering you and your... sister anymore."

A small pout formed on the little muggleborn witch's face and she looked up at Severus reprovingly, "Were you telling the truth? Tuney still thinks you're lying."

The halfblood's face blanked defensively, her emotions being carefully suppressed and giving Lily a rather stiff look. Woodenly, she said, "Depends on what you're asking about, but I never had a reason to lie about anything in the first place, there would be no point to it."

Little green eyes narrowed dramatically and the little red-haired girl pointed accusingly at Severus, "Don't avoid my question, _Snape_! Just tell me! Were you or weren't you?"

Gritting her teeth at the name, she bit out with exaggerated patience, "I'm generally not a liar. I was telling you the truth, because I didn't have a reason not to."

"So, you really _are_ a wizard?"

" **Witch** ," Severus corrected sharply with a dark look of warning. "I'm a **girl** , _not_ a boy. _Remember that_ , if nothing else."

Lily recoiled nervously from the almost-menacing expression, her bravado wavering with a heavy sense of caution. Despite her initial alarm, she persisted, "You have magic. Like me."

"Yes, and eventually when we're eleven, we'll go to a school with others like us to learn to control it." Black little eyes scanned the girl before her, analyzing and slowly relaxing as she figured out the other girl's motive wasn't to torment her but merely ask questions. With a jerk of the head, Severus turned forward again and began to walk down the deer path. "We need to get to the hideout if we're going to talk about this more. We can't let the muggles overhear us, it'll break the statute... Call me Severus by the way, I _hate_ my last name."

Scrabbling could be heard behind her as the little red-haired girl got to her feet and absently brushed the dirt off her dress. "Okay, Severus, and what statue? Why would it break because of some bubbles...?"

* * *

 _(there's a part of Severus that feels at ease with the new turn of events, like she had been a tutor or instructor before since the skills come to her so easily now as she teaches all she knows to Lily, the girl's questions themselves not being annoying in the least. Even when said questions weren't strictly about the magical world and all that came with it, Severus can't bring herself to begrudge the other girl of her knowledge, even if Lily can be a little pushy and naive in her youth)_

* * *

She hasn't been outright avoiding her mother, as she actually loves the woman and knows that the older witch is trying her best to provide a future for the both of them, but Severus is more cautious now, slinking around the edges when she's home and sneaking outside for most of the day. Eileen doesn't seem to notice though, having been distracted and distant herself, gone almost immediately after Tobias has left the house and appearing often only minutes before he does. Severus's personal lessons, if they happen at all, occur seldomly in the dead of night, long after Tobias has either passed out from intoxication or being slipped a potion.

Most days, Severus studied by herself and kept the knowledge fresh in her mind by teaching what she knew to Lily, who was proving to be better company than what she originally suspected. The little red-haired girl was proving to be strangely magnetic in her own way, a quick wit and a soft heart that burned; Severus often found her thoughts mulling Lily over and figuring out a categorization... Mayhaps a friend? It was beginning to seem so, and perhaps it would be best if that was indeed the case. Being all sharp edges and caustic humor wouldn't be gaining her any allies any time soon, and Lily would make for a good PR, having a more appealing charisma and loyalty in spades.

 _(Severus did too, but of a darker, and somewhat dangerous, variety; the kind that didn't instill trust, but wary awe instead)_

It was generally just a better idea to stay away from home, as she didn't like the direction the arguments were beginning to take, nor of the accusing suspicion of something being afoot in Tobias's eyes. He didn't have proof of them doing anything related to magic, but, then again, when had a lack of proof every prevented him from doing as her wanted before? She had a sneaking suspicion of her own that perhaps that were being too immoderate with the sleeping droughts and that the sole muggle of the house was getting the idea that alcohol wasn't the only reason for so many blackouts.

 _(a small voice whispered and niggled in the back of her mind, that constantly drugging Tobias was a gross abuse of human rights and extremely immoral; but she was always quick to defend herself with the rationalization that Tobias would do so himself and worse, would literally punch their lights out instead of giving them the equivalent of an extra-strength benadryl; and believed, in the depths of her cold heart, that this was true, knew that the man would grow more and more violent in his age as he grew either more confident or more enraged; she believed this, and became afraid and bitter)_

No, there was no doubt in her mind that the best choice for her at the present moment was to stay out of the way and avoid being underfoot. No need to provoke the muggle, if she could help it.

* * *

 _(but would she have known what was to come, if she hadn't cover her ears and eyes?_ _would she have been able to delay or postpone it until her mother's intrigue had come to pass, if she had been more proactive?_ _would she had been able to end it all together, end it differently, if she had only cared even just a little and stop being so apathetic and borderline-nihilistic?_ _would it have still been her fault, if she hadn't been the coward she always supposed herself to be?_

 _Severus thinks of Lily, and then finds her answer)_

* * *

Lying bonelessly on the stubby grass, Severus spread out indolently with her hands behind her head and legs akimbo; heavy eyes closed, looking purple and blue around the edges, seemingly bruised from exhaustion. Her hair lank and shiny from not being able to properly shower in the last two days. The Snape household hadn't been able to pay the utility bill again, and Severus had taken a quick dip into the river earlier before Lily's usual arrival time. Afterwards, she sunbathed in her clothes, drying off naturally while she waited. She didn't bother to move when her young friend joined her.

Lily sat crosslegged next to Severus's prone form, red hair tucked behind thin ears. Green eyes took stock of the worn and haggard face by her knees as her pointer finger gingerly skimmed Severus's hooked nose; her expression a study of helpless disquiet, thick eyebrows furrowed with troubled thoughts.

Black eyes opened slowly, blinking stiltedly as if it was harder to keep them open than closed, before taking a sort of bleary focus on the little red-haired girl's face. Severus snorted, "It'll get stuck that way if you keep looking at me like that."

Her frown deepened and she pressed her lips together firmly, humming noncommittally as she pointedly tapped at a scabby wound on the nose she had been not-so-idly tracing, the edges an inflamed red. "You've been picking at it again... You're gonna get sick, Severus..."

Wincing, the halfblood jerked away, prominent cheekbones flushing in heated mortification, sweat staring to form on the back of her neck. Mumbling insolently to herself under her breath, she retorted, "...'s not like I'm doing it on purpose. It just itches and then I go and..." Well, she wasn't entirely being truthful, but Severus wasn't quite sure she could describe the sort of absent-minded intent that came with picking all of one's scabs, even when it hurt, and idly prodding at the sometimes-resulting blood with a detached fascination. Or her other fixation with candle wax and messing around with it even though it was burning hot. "...and in any case, I wasn't mucking about when I said your face might get stuck."

"Huh?" Lily blinked, thrown by the nonsequitur. "What d'you mean?"

"Someone could hex it stuck, probably," Severus answered airily, purposely exploiting the other's rather one-track-mind when it came to magic. Obviously, this wouldn't be the last time that Lily tried probing her nose into business that it didn't belong in, but that didn't mean that she couldn't be side-tracked from her main goal and be delayed from her personal questions.

"And is that someone going to be you? Nobody else does magic here."

"My mom does."

"Is she gonna hex me?"

Severus ceded the point, "Probably not, but just remember to be careful what faces you make later. Who knows what our 'esteemed peers' might do? Especially the purist fanatics."

"...The what?"

Right, she still had yet to talk about the prevalent cult-issue in Wizarding Society with Lily. Well, no time like the present.

"You know about the kings and queens of England right?" Severus asked somewhat rhetorically, knowing that Lily had also been homeschooled but on English history instead of wizarding history, and then stuck to muggle subjects while Severus got solely magic-related lessons from her mother. And while she couldn't be sure just how much the little red-haired girl had been taught or even remembered from her own lessons, the concept of royalty was fairly basic by itself. At the other girl's nod, she continued, "Well, kings and queens have princes and princesses, and the crown is passed down the family line, given only to those of legitimate royal blood."

"Legitimate?" Lily prompted.

"Lawful, meaning the king and queen have to be married first. If they, uh, had babies before getting married or if one of the parents isn't royal, they won't count according to the law, or whatever. So, even if they were born first, if they got a brother or sister after their parents' married or if their royal parent married someone else who was royal instead... Their little sibling would be the next-in-line, not them... The little siblings and everyone who is married and legitimate will be considered royal. They are called 'pureblooded'... and it's basically the same with wizards. The Purebloods are those whose family is filled with only witches and wizards... No trace of muggle ancestors. I would be called a Halfblood, because my mom is a Pureblood, but my dad is a muggle. That's why I don't see my grandparents, and my mom doesn't talk about her mom and dad... I'm not... considered legitimate."

Lily Evans, bless her, quietly took all of this in, and accepted it. Her quick little mind processed what she had been told, churning it around and analyzing it. Severus merely waited for the inevitable questions she would be getting and ready to expand on the over-simplified idea. "So, your mum is a...princess?"

"Not really, but sort of? She's pureblooded, from an old magical family that can traces all of it's magical ancestor's for ages. Old Pureblood families are like royalty because people respect and fear them, they have a lot of power behind their name, but they don't rule over anything. It's just... a title."

"Is it, is it like 'rich' and 'poor' and 'middle'?" Lily hedged, brows scrunched together as she tried to make a comparison that made sense. "But it's 'pure' and 'half' and 'muggle' instead? Am I a muggleblood then?"

Severus sneered, but it wasn't directed at Lily herself, but just how close she had got to guessing one of the most ridiculous and immature slurs worthy of schoolyard-levels of creativity. _Mudblood_. The sheer amount of hate and shame the word seemed to drip was disgusting. She could see where Lily got the idea, and the girl wasn't too far off the mark actually, but it couldn't have been made more obvious just how ridiculous the whole concept was. "Don't use that word again, Lily, it's too close to a rude one. You're a muggle _born_ , yes, but you're first and foremost a _witch_."

It was to Lily's credit that she didn't recoil from the sheer amount of scorn in Severus's voice. Perhaps because she knew that it wasn't directed at herself, or mayhems because she knew how Severus felt about things she considered 'petty' and 'unnecessarily cruel'. In either case, a small part of Severus was pathetically grateful that the other girl took her caustic nature in stride. Instead of reacting, Lily carefully asked a question, "Does it make a difference, being a muggleborn?"

There was no hesitation, no doubt in Severus's beady black eyes as they glared up into her friend's face, staunchly answering with a firm, "No. Don't let anyone tell you different, especially not fanatic Purebloods or their purist sympathizers, because _they will lie_. They will lie and lie and lie, because they are scared of change and don't like the idea of losing power to stronger muggleborn witches and wizards... because that's all it really comes down to, power and control and fear of the unknown. They look down upon Halfbloods and Muggleborns, and consider the Muggle world to be inferior to their own. Any Purebloods who don't agree are considered traitors to their own kind and disgraces, like my mum. You're just as good as any other witch, might even be better considering how powerful you are now as a kid, and all before we've even gone to school yet."

"Really..?" Lily whisper, tone humbled and sad, her eyes downcast and pointed away from her friend's robbing gaze that always seemed to read her mind.

"Yes," Severus reaffirmed, answer succinct and clipped. "I don't lie when there isn't reason to." The unspoken ' _you should know that by now_ ' hung in the air after.

The little red-haired witch let out a shaky laugh, seeming to defrost a little at the half-expected phrase. "Not even to make me feel better?"

After a moment considering the question, she sat up slowly for the first time in the conversation. Lily still avoided her gaze, electing to pick at the grass. With a small huff, Severus bent down to the side, her scraggly hair invading the other girl's vision and making her unable to ignore the Halfblood. Severus murmured quietly, "No, not even to make you feel better, Lily. Pointlessly reassuring something that isn't even true never helps anybody in the long run, just makes it more difficult face later on. Better to just tell the truth; although a little tact never goes amiss..."

A pause, and then sparkling green eyes shyly peeked up between light eyelashes, "Thank you, Severus... You just always seem to know what to say."

Severus snorted, her dry "I practice in the mirror every night before bed" startling a laugh out of Lily and making a warm feeling pool in her belly. The not-feeling grows more and takes permanent residence inside her chest, settling comfortable between her lungs.

She cannot remove it.

She does not want to.

* * *

 _(you won't go anywhere...right?)_

* * *

 **part two: fin**

* * *

 **Ranunculus (orange): Orange flowers give a playful meaning to a flower, generally symbolizing happiness and warmth. Ranunculus flowers generally mean "I am dazzled by your charms." They can also symbolize holding something close to your heart, like a meaningful secret or a person.**

 **Nancy, or** **Nancy-boy: an offensive slur and** **disparaging term for an effeminate man, especially one who is gay.**

* * *

 **A/N: So, end of part two. A bit of a sneak peek between the two witches and their relationship in about three months, as well as set up for the next chapter where everything goes wrong and the rose-tinted glasses of youth are ripped away. Because while Severus isn't being naive or disillusioned by any stretch of the imagination... She takes the relative peace and routine of her life for granted and is complacent because of this.**

 **She's just coasting through the days and biding her time until she gets her letter from Hogwarts, and of course we can't have that.**

 **In other news, I've settled on the face claims for our characters thus far; I picture:**

 **Adam Driver (Kylo Ren edition from Star Wars) as Severus**

 **Karen Gillan (Amy Pond edition from Doctor Who) as Lily**

 **Giselda Volodi (Loredana Ciraulo edition from It Was The Son) as Eileen**

 **Julian Richings (Death edition from Supernatural) as Tobias**

 **Laura Carmichael (Edith Crawley edition from Downton Abbey) as Petunia**

 **I'll come up with more when more characters are introduced.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Stars.**


End file.
